


A Chance Meeting

by kvothbloodless



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, Some Fluff, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2020-03-26 12:58:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19006270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kvothbloodless/pseuds/kvothbloodless
Summary: The Auditors have a new plan, this time using humanities best against them. But a chance meeting between Susan Sto Helit and Angua von Uberwald throws a wrench in their plans. Susan/Angua.





	1. Prelude

Three grey cloaks hovered in space. Despite the fact that their occupants were clearly conversing, no face could be discerned from inside the hood. That, and the fact that they were floating lightyears from the nearest planet were good indicator that these were not human*.

 

*or troll or dwarf as it happened. Really, there is no limit to the things that they were not.

 

They were the Auditors. The Auditors of Reality.

One said _Are we sure this is a good idea?_

One said _The last time we attempted such a feat, it went poorly for us._

One said _That was different. This time, we will let the people,_ here its voice twisted somewhat*, _create their own downfall._

One said _And we are certain he will not be able to interfere?_

One said _The rules are clear. We will not actually be doing anything will we? A book here, a tablet there. Certainly we will be blameless. His hands will be tied._

One said _What about her?_

One said _We have laid a false trail. She does not have the skills to recognize this until it is too late._

Finally, they said in unison _Then we are agreed. Let it begin._

*an impressive feat given that the speaker was not, in point of fact, actually speaking.

 

Without any further comment, the three shapes faded, spreading out across the universe until they were no more there than anywhere else.


	2. Chapter 1

Susan awoke suddenly to the sound of breaking glass. Her first thought was something supernatural, possibly even a monster, before she dismissed these thoughts as ridiculous. After all, monsters didn't come in through windows. Grabbing the poker for safety, she climbed out of bed and headed towards the source of the sound.

By the time she got there, the room was empty, the safe was cracked open, and the window was broken. Sighing, she turned to look at Twyla, who had come to investigate, and said, "Go back to sleep, I'll be back in a few minutes." She looked out the window and caught glimpse of a figure running away. Then, she carefully climbed out the window, down a drain pipe, and leapt to the cobblestones below.

She began to run after the dark figure, trying to get within earshot. The Voice was useful, but not if it couldn't be heard. She began to worry that she would lose him and considered stopping time, but after what had happened the last time, she decided against it.* Suddenly, she heard a howl, and the retreating figure was tackled by a much larger one. The larger shape retreated into an alley for a moment, then exited looking quite different. At least, Susan was fairly certain it was the same one. Whatever had entered had been large and hairy, and as she got closer, she saw that the new figure was petite, female, human, and decidedly nude. Despite herself, Susan felt a red blush creep into her cheeks.  _It's just the heat_ , she told herself. The figure looked up, it gave a start, then stepped back into the alley.

"Uh, City Watch, carry on," it said hastily, but Susan continued forward.  _After all,_  she though,  _he did steal from_ my _house._  Susan heard the rasping of cloth, the chink of metal, and then the guard exited the alley again, this time fully clothed. Susan walked over to the would-be thief, reached down, and grabbed the bag full of gold that her employers kept in their safe.

"What are you doing?" said the woman behind her. "Just retrieving what this man stole from me," replied Susan, turning around calmly. The guard looked at her for a moment, then nodded, and moved to cuff the criminal. Susan stared for a moment, shook herself, then turned to walk back to the house. "Stay out of trouble," she heard the guard call behind her as Susan turned the corner.

*Ankh Morpork had enough magical disturbances as it was. It had rained frogs (or at least something like frogs) the last time Susan had interfered by freezing time within the city.

 


	3. Chapter 2

Angua set down her truncheon slowly, dreading the thought of going back to Mrs. Cake's. Usually she stayed with Carrot, but now…

Feeling resigned, she walked out the door and started towards the house, when she passed Biers. The more she thought about it, the more inviting a cocktail sounded. Turning on her heels, she entered the bar. Everyone glanced up for a moment, then went back to their drinks*. The Igor behind the bar asked, "What'll it be?" without looking up.

"A bottle of whiskey," Angua said evenly. The Igor looked up at her, surprised for a moment, then winked knowingly.

"I heard about you and Captain Carrot. This one is on the house," he said, pouring her a small glass of a clear liquid. She downed it in one go, felt a small burn in her throat, and then washed it down with whiskey.

*A drink being defined here as anything fluid or semifluid that can be drunk, slurped, or otherwise swallowed by a ~~living~~ creature.

Susan carefully added the thirtieth mark to the column, then grinned victoriously. One month, 30 days, a twelfth of a year, four weeks with not a single supernatural incident. There had been the break in, but that had just been a human. An annoying human admittedly, but just a human.

To celebrate thirty straight days of normalcy, she was going to Biers. The drinks weren't the best, but at least no one stared at the raven.

As she walked down the street, it appeared that people moved out of her way. In fact, people were simply not where she was. A tavern brawl that had moved outside stopped suddenly as the pugilists found themselves sidling towards the edge of the street for no apparent reason.

She was almost to Biers when she heard a flutter of wings and a voice say, "Trying to ditch me? You know what he gets like if I don't keep an eye on you."

Susan sighed. Quoth the raven had been instructed by her grandfather to "keep an eye on her" after their last encounter with the Auditors. She found it disconcerting when changing, but besides that the only impact was the curious stares when inside.

She entered the building quietly, walking up to the bar without interruption. The patrons of Biers were generally a quiet sort, who went there to drink without being bothered by other drinkers, other people, or (especially) an angry mob. Knowing that no matter how much she drank, she would never get more than tipsy, Susan ordered a large bottle of mead. The Igor handed it over without comment, and accepted the cold iron coins stoically. As he put them away, he glanced at another patron. The guard was on her 6th glass, and he was beginning to get worried. Hitting a bothersome werewolf with his club was one thing, but she was a guard. Vimes would go spare if he found out.

 


	4. Chapter 3

As Susan drained her cup, she reflected that accepting a ‘new’ drink from Igor without asking the ingredients first had probably been a mistake. Suddenly, one of the other drinkers unsuccessfully tried to stand up, and fell against the bar; Susan glanced over and recognized the familiar face of the guard from earlier, sighed, and walked over. _She stopped the burglar. I should make sure she gets home._ She nodded at Igor as she supported the blonde’s weight.

“I’ll make sure she’s alright. Just…where does she live?”

Igor frowned at the impropriety for a moment before realizing that the alternative was having an angry, drunk werewolf remain in the bar.

“She lives over at Mrs. Cakes’, last time I checked.”

Head spinning, she half-led, half-carried the woman towards Mrs. Cakes’ building. _What was in that drink, wood alcohol?_ As they walked, the blonde began to show signs of life, and by the time they arrived at the right door, she was supporting her own weight.

“’nks for helpin me,” she slurred, fumbling for her key.

Susan sighed and reached into the women’s pocket, ignoring where her hand was as she extracted the key. She led the guard to the bed, using the walls for support. _I’m going to have a hangover tomorrow. Twyla is going to love this._ The guard began to undress, apparently oblivious to Susan’s presence; she turned to leave, when she suddenly stepped onto something and tripped, hitting the ground with a thud. She tried to stand up as the room spun, and then she was upright, the blonde supporting _her_ weight. Susan noticed that the woman was shirtless, and tried to step back, blushing furiously from head to toe. The women stepped forward, mumbling, “Don’t go.” And suddenly their lips were meeting…

 


	5. Chapter 4

_Images rushed through Susan’s mind. Her hands cupping breasts, her mouth moving lower and lower, her back arched in pleasure…_

Susan woke to dawn’s early light, head pounding. The last thing she remembered clearly was tripping. After that, it was all a blur. She glanced over at the sleeping form of the blonde, and quietly slipped out of bed. As she got dressed, she considered the best way to keep the children occupied today. A trip to the park was out of the question, but perhaps she could bring Binky to them. Mrs. Gaiter could hardly object to such a noble* animal as Binky, and the children would spend hours with the horse without getting bored.

She straightened her cloak, and opened the door cautiously, glancing back at the woman one more time. Being Death’s granddaughter did not lend itself to a good relationship; dating became awkward when you occasionally saw your partner as 40 years older than you. However, that didn’t mean Susan didn’t deserve some fun every once in a while. _Of course,_ she thought ruefully, _it’d be nice to remember the fun._

Susan arrived at the Gaiter house half an hour before she was due to wake the children up, and began to make a pot of tea. A few minutes later, Mr. Gaiter walked past her blearily, and poured himself a cup. As he unfolded a copy of The Times, she walked up the stairs to wake Twyla and Gawain. Her hangover was disappearing quickly, but she thought it best to avoid the noise of the park. Besides, the children really would enjoy Binky.

 

*In the mind of Mrs. Gaiter, any animal owned by a duchess was noble.

 

 

              Angua opened her eyes blearily. She didn’t remember much of last night, but she’d somehow made it back to her room. She stood up to get ready for work, and realized she was naked. That was odd. She found her shirt and cloak in a pile, and the rest of her clothes strewn about.

  _What happened last night?_ Half formed images flitted in and out of her mind, but she pushed them away. She would have to run to get to Pseudopolis Yard on time.

_Oh gods. Pseudopolis Yard. Carrot._ Reluctantly, she pulled on her shirt.

 

* * *

 

              Angua looked up as the front door slammed open. She’d been working on paperwork for the past few hours, and the sun was nearly setting. She hadn’t seen Carrot all day. Maybe he’d been patrolling.

“There’s some sort of disturbance over on Lance Street, by the fountain!”

“Well why aren’t you dealing with it?” Angua asked roughly. _Carrot will be there; I just know it._

“Well, I’m about to get off, see, and I promised my girl I’d…”

 Angua looked around for Vimes or Colon or even, as a last resort, Nobbs, but the only other guard in the room was one of the new dwarves.

“Fine,” she sighed, putting on her helmet.

             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 5

Susan walked quickly down Lance Street, following her senses. She’d felt the same malice that caused toast to fall butter-side-down emanating from that direction for the past hour. She’d gone one month without this sort of thing. Apparently that was all she was going to get.

As she got nearer to the source of that malice, she heard the sounds of a crowd. In Ankh-Morpork that could mean anything from street entertainment to a cataclysmic disaster. Moving through the people like an arrow, she finally reached the center of the crowd.

_It’s a rock. A giant bloody rock._ Lying in a small crater, where there used to be a fountain, was a large rock, covered in char marks.

Angua ran towards the fountain, dodging through the crowd as she got closer. When finally arrived at the scene, she found the source of the disturbance. No one appeared to be hurt, but she looked around for any witnesses, when her eyes caught on a strange circle of empty space at the edge of the crowd. There was something off about it. She tried to make out a scent… and she suddenly realized there was a woman in the center. _A nearly invisible woman with her own bubble of space; she might be related to the…rock._ The idea sounded stupid even in her head, but she went to investigate.

“Ma’am, what are you doing here?” she asked, approaching the woman. It was easy to keep track of her as long as she focused on the scent. The woman looked up in surprise, and Angua stopped. Memories flickered through her mind: the bar, the walk home, her bed…

“You can se… oh, it’s you. Why are you interrogating me?”

Angua snapped her mouth shut. “Interr… I’m not. Look, about last night, I don’t… it was an accident. It didn’t happen.”

An expression of hurt flashed across the woman’s face, but was quickly replaced with an impassive gaze.

“Of course.” She turned to walk away. Guilt rushed through Angua. _She did help me home. That was a bit harsh._

“Wait. I’m sorry, that was rude. I didn’t mean to…” she broke off as she saw a familiar head of red hair heading down the street.

“Blast! I’ve got to hide.” Moving on instinct she grabbed the woman’s arm, and dragged her into a nearby alley. Only then did she realize that this wasn’t a crime, and she didn’t need to protect a bystander.

“Uh.. sorry, that was instinct. I’m sorry again. Can you just leave the back…” she trailed off when she realized this was a dead end.

“Could you just wait a few minutes? Please?”

The woman paused for a moment, then nodded. Angua peaked around the corner, and saw a small shape detach itself from Carrot and head towards the alley.

“Gaspode,” she whispered, “don’t bring him over here. Just… let me know when he leaves.”

“Of course. That’s all it is. No ‘ _How are you?’_ or _‘Do you want a biscuit?’_ just orders.” He sighed, or at least huffed. “I’ll let you know when he’s gone.” The dog stalked off to sniff the trash.

“So you have a talking dog?” Angua turned around in shock.

“You can hear him?”

“Of course. You weren’t whispering very quietly.”

“No, I mean… never mind. You don’t seem very surprised.” Susan grimaced at the fact that she now found talking animals to be normal. Well, nothing to be done about it now.

“It’s not that odd. I have a talking raven,” Susan stated matter-of-factly, attempting to conceal her annoyance.  

“You have a… what!”

Susan looked around, then gave a brief whistle. A dark shape descended from a nearby rooftop, and landed on her shoulder.

“Who is this now?” The raven croaked.

“You have. A talking raven.”

“And you have a talking dog.”

“Fair enough.” Angua glanced around the corner.

“He’s still there. He’s taking reports! On a rock! We’ll be here for an hour.” The raven looked at the alley wall, then croaked.

“In case you ladies are interested, there’s a door there that leads into a bar.” The girls exchanged glances, sighed, then walked into the bar. They looked for a back entrance, but the only other door was right in the middle of the square.

Angua glanced over at the girl.

“If we’re gonna wait, we might as well get drinks.”

 


	7. Chapter 6

After Angua had ordered a strong coffee, she sat down across from the strange woman. Now that she paying attention, she found there was something _off_ about her. Nothing obvious, but the faint scent of icy water and chilled iron emanated from her. She noticed the woman was drinking tea, and raised an eye brow.

“You’re not drinking coffee? After last night?” She blanched, realizing she’d already mentioned what she was determined to ignore.

“I don’t exactly get hangovers. Well not for long, anyways.”

“Yes, I noticed there was something off about you. What exactly _are_ you?” She paused, realizing how rude she’d sounded.

“Sorry. I just meant, you’re not a werewolf. You don’t smell like a vampire. You’re certainly not a bogie man. And you don’t exactly act like a fairy.”

“That’s a…long story.” After the unpleasant experience Susan had had with the Hogfather, she was doing her best to ignore her grandfather’s side of the family. Or at least to forget that business with the teeth. But now the Auditors were clearly up to something. She was quite annoyed with the entire situation. Realizing the blonde was waiting for her to continue, she spoke.

“I’ll answer your question if you answer mine. Why exactly are we hiding in a bar from the attractive guard?”

“That’s… also a long story.” Susan just nodded as if to say _well are we answering or not?_ Angua took a long sip of coffee, wishing her headache would subside, then answered.

“He’s… we sort of… we were seeing each other.” Susan raised an eyebrow.

“That’s a long story?”

“Well…” Susan tried not to laugh. She didn’t want to be rude, but really. She had thought it was something dangerous. Or at least more serious than a break up. Angua just grimaced, embarrassed, then rallied.

“Well, it’s your turn. What exactly are you?” It was Susan’s turn to take a long sip, stalling for time. Half-truths and excuses ran through her mind.

“I… have supernatural blood. My grandfather.” Perhaps she’d be satisfied with that.

“I’ve never heard of any 2nd generation being able to turn invisible, much less 3rd. What was he?”

Susan sighed, realizing there wasn’t actually anything that could go wrong here. But just for once she’d wanted to have a real conversation without being DEATH’S granddaughter.

“My grandfather is Death.” Angua nearly choked on her coffee.

“Death?”

“Yes. Death with a capital D. Big scythe. Dark cloak. Skull face. The whole shebang.” Angua, paused, digesting the information. The woman was clearly extremely uncomfortable discussing this.

“You look good for a skeleton.” Susan paused, then snorted. It was just so unexpected. Angua found herself smiling too.

“I didn’t even know Death had children. How… how did that work?” Susan snorted again.

“That’s an even longer story. My parents lived interesting lives. Speaking of which, how did a were-” she cut off as she noticed a redhead entering the bar.

“You may want to duck out,” she said, nodding discreetly in his direction. Angua groaned, looking around for another exit and finding none. This was going to be awful. He’d try to make small talk, she just knew it.

“I don’t suppose you can make other people invisible?” she asked, somewhat desperately. Susan paused.

“It’s not exactly invisibility, it’s more… well not important. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never tried.” Until now, she hadn’t had cause to test it. It wasn’t something she tried to do; it just happened. Like most of her abilities, she did her best to avoid it when she could. She shrugged.

“Let’s find out.” She reached out and grasped the blonde’s hand, then focused. Well, not exactly focused. In truth, she stopped concentrating on being visible. After a few moments, she waved her hand in front of a nearby man. When he didn’t react, she nodded at the blonde. Moving through the crowd in a manner not unlike a snow plow, they exited the building.

Angua let go of the woman’s hand as soon as they were out of the bar. She saw that the crowd had mostly dispersed.

“I’d better get going before he comes back out. But thank you, uh… I never did get your name?” she asked awkwardly, realizing that she’d dragged this poor woman into a bar to hide from Carrot without even asking her name.

Susan just smiled and said, “My name is Susan.” Then she turned to leave. Angua did the same, then briefly turned back.

“I’m Angua,” she called, guiltily realizing that she’d failed to introduce herself as well. Susan didn’t look back, and Angua hurried towards Pseudopolis Yard.

 

 


	8. Chapter 7

            Angua had a headache. This was partly due to the hangover she still had _three_ days after Biers, but also due to the extremely large crowd, blocking the entirety of the largest street in Ankh-Morpork. It was so large and loud, in fact, that she couldn’t even make out what was causing it. Even more troublesome, neither could anyone at the edge of the crowd. It seemed to be almost a living thing, growing of its own accord, resisting any efforts to dislodge it. She had tried shoving her way through the crowd, but only made it a few yards before the crowd was so densely packed that no one could tell she was a guard, and thus she failed to get any further. She sighed, realizing she was not going to be able to handle this on her own, and sent a runner to Pseudopolis yard. Then she prayed. Hard.

            Several minutes later, she felt immense relief as she saw Corporal Detritus coming down the road. For one, there wasn’t a crowd large enough in the world to stop him if he wanted to get somewhere, and two, it wasn’t Carrot.

            “Needin’ some help der Sergeant?” he asked, once he’d gotten close enough to see the scope of the crowd. The crowd had now grown so large it was blocking intersections at either end. At this rate, by the time they reached the center, it would already have doubled in size again.

            Detritus looked at the crowd thoughtfully for a moment, then cupped his massive hands around his mouth. He looked at Angua briefly, who covered her ears, and then he shouted. She couldn’t make out exactly what was being said, in the same way that someone who has just been hit over the head with a tree cannot make out the entire forest. After a few moments, the crowd had gone silent. Either that, or she’d lost her hearing. The edges of the crowd started to disperse, and a path opened up for Angua towards the center. Her ears ringing, she walked into the center of the crowd. By the time they’d stopped ringing, she could see an old man, holding up a clay tablet, shouting at the crowd.

“… he’s coming. And with him will come an army of the undead.”

“This is pure necrophobia!” shouted a voice from the middle of the crowd. Angua turned towards the source of the voice, then shouted over the crowd while walking to him.

“Constable Shoe, what exactly is going on here?”

“This old man is spouting non-sense, Sergeant. He’s claiming that rock the other day was some sort of _sign_.” He said this in the same tone of voice people use when discussing crop circles, then continued.

“He has some old clay tablets no one else can read. Says they’re a thousand years old, and that they predicted the rock falling at that exact time and place. It’s obviously just a blatant move to subjugate the undead. Claiming we’re going to form an army and lay waste to the country. Why would we do something like that? We li…stay here.” Angua nodded at him in what she hoped was a reassuring manner, and then stalked towards the old man, noticing the large amount of gold jewelry he was wearing. _Some sort of scam? Donate your money here to defeat the great dread army?_ Morporkians would believe anything, provided you dressed it up in exotic colors. It was the truth that was hard to get them to believe.

“Sir, what exactly are you doing here?”

“Spreading the truth!”

“And what truth is that?”

“The end is near! Angels appeared before me, and told me to seek out the truth. I found this tablet predicting the end, and lo! The first of its predictions proved true. I went out to spread the word. We must take action now, before the army of undead is upon us!” Angua stared him down for a moment, and although he blanched, he didn’t falter. More importantly, he didn’t smell afraid. Either he was a better actor than any scam artist she’d met before, or he thought he was telling the truth. Not a scam artist then, just another crazy Morporkian. Unfortunately, he was going to cause issues. If she arrested him though, it would just add fuel to the fire. Before she could figure out what to do next, she heard a voice behind her that made her heart sink.

“What seems to be the problem here?” asked Captain Carrot. Angua turned around, her heart pounding as she saw him for the first time since that day a week ago.

            As far as break ups went, it hadn’t been bad. There had always been a part of her life that he couldn’t understand. That he didn’t seem to think needed to be understood. Sometimes his lack of response got to be too much. It wasn’t like he actually did anything. He didn’t ignore that she turned into a wolf 7 days out of the month. He wasn’t afraid of her. He wasn’t…anything. That was the problem. He was completely unaffected and unreactive to an entire part of her life, an entire part of her identity. She’d never said anything of course. It was an absurd thing to be upset about. But he had, perhaps subconsciously at first, sensed that she was unhappy with something. Unable to figure out why, this had made him uneasy. This made her feel guilty, which made her feel worse, which in turn made Carrot more uncomfortable. And so on, and so on. Eventually a conversation had happened. She wasn’t sure who had started it, or who ended it. Truth be told, it wasn’t clear who had actually dumped who; although, she told herself, she had dumped him. The worst part was that, if asked, she was sure Carrot would politely agree with her. No. The worst part had been what Carrot had said afterwards.  
            “We’ll still be friends,” he’d said. And gods, he’d actually meant it. He didn’t see any reason why they couldn’t go back to how it had been before.

            Coming out of her reverie, Angua cleared her throat, and explained what was happening. Carrot smiled at her, then turned to the old man. While they spoke, Angua noticed that Cheri was with him. Cheri gave her a supportive smile.

            Carrot led the old man towards them while they argued.

“Sir, we just want to verify your claims. Maybe get a second set of eyes on the translation. I’m told Ancient Omnian can be quite difficult to translate. We wouldn’t want to prepare for the wrong army, would we?” If someone else had said that sentence, the man would have felt mocked. But Captain Carrot was so matter of fact about it, it seemed convincing.

“Fine, yes, fine. But I’m going back out immediately afterwards. The people need to be warned.” Carrot just nodded amicably, and lead the man back towards the watch house.


	9. Chapter 8

Sir Samuel Vimes was not, by nature, a calm man. The vein throbbing prominently on his forehead was an indication that, even by Vimes standards, today was not a particularly good day. Angua instinctively took a half step back when he opened him mouth.

            “You mean to tell me, that this tablet is legitimate?” Surprisingly, his voice was low and even. He hadn’t shouted, and to an inexperienced person this was a good sign. Angua and Cheri knew better.

            “Uh… yes sir. It’s at least 3,000 years old, although I could get more specific if given more time.” Corporal Littlebottom was speaking cautiously. The tablet certainly hadn’t _looked_ 3,000 years old, with its clean cut letters and still-intact right angles. But she _had_ checked three times. The array of smoking and bubbling vials behind her attested to that. And she had used up all her graphite.

            “Any idea what type of clay it is? Where it’s from?”

            “No sir. It’s not from around Ankh-Morpork, or the Sto-Lat plains, or Klatch, or the Ramtops.”

            “Well it must have come from somewhere! Constable Visit, how’s that translation coming along?”

            “Quite good sir. You know, we all have to learn ancient Omnian. It provides great insight into the thoughts of our forbearers. If you want, I can give you a beginner’s copy of _Ibis Viridi_. It comes with the first three books of Brutha-”

            “That’s quite all right Constable. What does the tablet actually say?”

            “Along the lines of what that man said. Great rock falling from the sky, army of the undead, a geyser bursting in the city-”

            “A what!?” Vimes shouted. Angua took another step back. This was starting to look worse and worse.

            “I’m not having a geyser in this city! It’d be a sanitational nightmare! And where’s the water even going to come from? The only water source nearby is the Ankh, and I can’t imagine a geyser from that lasting more than five minutes before its plugged itself up.”

            “The translation is clear sir. Well… fairly clear. It’s either a geyser or a metaphorical release of great emotion. Wait no- that may actually be a term for flatulence.” Constable Visit-The-Infidel-With-Explanatory-Pamphlets looked up embarrassed. Of all the skills he had expected to use in the den of iniquity that was Ankh-Morpork, ancient linguistics had not been one of them.

            “Let’s operate under the assumption your first translation was right. I want dwarves scouring the river banks for any signs. If something is going to burst, I want to make sure no one is nearby. Constable Gearheim, organize a group.” The dwarf in question saluted and then ran off.

            “Constable Visit, does it give a date for this so-called army of the dead?”

            “Uh…Summer Solstice* sir.” He said, after a brief hesitation. Vimes’ lips moved as he did the math himself.

            “Six weeks then. Vetinari’s not going to like this.” He started to walk off, muttering to himself as he went.

 

*The Ancient Omnian would be better translated as “the day when that bastard in the sky really kicks you in the teeth”

 

            “Should we keep the old man sir? He’s going to cause a riot with all his preaching. We could charge him with behavior likely to cause a breach of the peace” Angua asked, before he could leave. Vimes started as he remembered the man they were holding.

            “No, no, that will just make things worse. We need to keep things calm. Make them think we’re not worried. We have a copy of the translation, so give him back his blasted tablet and release him.” As Angua walked off to do that, she heard a runner at the front door.

            “Vimes,” said the well-dressed man at the entrance to the watch house, “the Patrician requests you meet with him at your earliest convenience. A group is preparing to speak with him about protection from the undead.” The last thing Angua heard before leaving the room was Vimes’ curses.

           

            Susan opened yet another book from the pile. She had spent every spare moment of the last few days buried in libraries. Oh she’d tried to avoid it. The last thing she wanted was to get sucked into another one of these fights. But the Auditors were up to somethings, and she was the only one in a position to stop them. As she had told Twyla and Gawain, the phrase 'Someone ought to do something' was not, by itself, a helpful one. People who used it never added the rider 'and that someone is me.' And so, she had spent the past four hours poring through books on meteorites.

            At first, this had been less than helpful. Being composed entirely of inorganic rock, there wasn’t much in the way of danger posed by a meteorite to humanity*. There had been a meteorite a thousand years ago in Ephebe that started a great plague, but those had both been sent directly by the gods.

*At least, not after it had hit the ground

Fortunately, that book had referenced another, leading to her current line of research: portents. Meteorites appeared as portents in mythologies from nearly every culture since the dawn of civilization. While this meant she was likely on the right track, it also meant that she had to read through the mythologies of nearly every culture since the dawn of civilization, of which there were quite a few. Tsort, Ephebe, and Klatch all had multiple stories involving rocks falling from the sky, but none of them seemed applicable.

Finally, yesterday, she’d stumbled upon a small collection of myths from the region that was now Omnia. These pre-Omnian myths mentioned a story that seemed promising, but to her utter despair, she had been unable to find a single copy of it in any of the half dozen libraries she had visited today. That left her one option.

Sighing, she prepared herself to go to the unending library of Unseen University. It wasn’t that she disliked the wizards. They were alright, in small doses. But the University itself, with its obscene levels of background magic, never interacted well with her heritage. It was a constant and unpleasant reminder of what she was. Or wasn’t. She brought her poker with her this time anyways, just in case she ended up on another surprise trip to the dungeon dimension.

When she arrived at the massive library, she prepared herself for a full day of exploring. She had 6 hours before she needed to return to Twyla and Gawain, and she fully expected to use all of it. If it weren’t for the high chance of them getting lost, the high chance of them encountering some strange beast, and the orangutan they would have pestered, she would have harnessed their energy by helping her search. As it was, they were occupied with impromptu lessons Susan had arranged.

To her shock, after only 15 minutes of searching, she found the book she was looking for. She found it on the third row she searched, first book she looked at. If she hadn’t known better, she’d have said it was fate.

Brushing past a group of sobbing University students huddled around an open book, she set the book on a table and began to read. After the first two chapters her blood began to run cold.

“… _As the Summer Solstice approaches, a great form of stone and fire shall fall from the heavens, and destroy that which it sees. A torrent of air and water shall breach the accomplishments of man, and their tiny world will face a flood. The Aether itself will shudder, as the boundaries of Hell and man overlap. And on the day of the Summer Solstice, when the planets of Apat and Praes align perfectly with the sun and moon circling the Disc, the King of Death shall arise from deep within the Hells of the Disc, and lead an army of the dead to destroy the kingdoms of man.”_

As she continued reading, a sense of unease settled over her. Not terror, although she certainly felt fear at this story. But just unease. Something seemed wrong here. She failed to see how the Auditors played into this. She needed more information. Unfortunately, information on the Hells was limited by the fact that most people only went there the once, if they went at all. The wizards were still unclear about where devils and demons and actually came from, but either way, she would need to investigate this herself.

After a protracted discussion with the Librarian, which consisted of her offering a large number of bananas, she left with the book in hand.

Unseen by anyone, the gray shape nodded in something akin to satisfaction, and went to speak with its brethren.

 

Gathered far above the city, far enough that not even the ravens of Unseen University could see from the top of that impossible tower, the figures spoke.

One said _She has taken the bait._

One said _Then it is working._

One said _Is there any chance of her destruction?_

One said _Unfortunately not. She will survive the hells, but will be too late in returning._

One said _Then it is done._

They faded then, confident in their success. Which was unfortunate for them, as they failed to see what happened next. The gods of the Discworld do not play dice with the fates of men, but an ineffable, unknowable game of their own devising. This game does, however, consist in part of rolling dice. For the third time this week, The Lady rolled two sixes.

Angua walked her patrol calmly. She felt better than she had in days. Her hangover was gone, things with Carrot were, if not pleasant, then at least bearable, and there had been no more disruptions the rest of the day. She enjoyed the background noises of the city as she walked.

As she turned the corner onto the last street of her patrol, she felt something crash into her. As she lay in a sprawl, she looked over and saw a somewhat familiar head of white hair, with a single black streak.


	10. Chapter 9

              The thing that surprised Angua the most, other than quite literally running into her, was the lack of panic she felt. The last week had been fairly tumultuous, and this woman had been, if not actually involved in any of it, at least on the periphery. Susan, she remembered the name guiltily, appeared to be recovering from a daze.

              “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t-” she broke off when she recognized the guard.

              “Oh, it’s you.” Angua noted she did not sound displeased with this. The woman’s eyes flicked over her briefly, as if to confirm the statement. She was pursing her lips.

              “What?” Angua asked defensively.

              “Once is circumstance, twice is coincidence. But this is three times within a week. There are what? Half a million people living in the city. The odds of that are practically a-million-to-one.” Now that Susan pointed it out, it was a bit odd. Her thoughts on the subject came to a screeching halt when she saw the books Susan was carrying. _No, not a coincidence at all_ she thought. Susan noticed the staring and raised an eyebrow questioningly.

              “You’re looking into the army of the dead.” It wasn’t a question. Her suspicion flared. _She claimed to be Death’s granddaughter. And doesn’t that just seem appropriate._

              “Ma’am, can I ask why you’re delving into such a subject?” Susan stared incredulously at her for a moment, although for what she was unsure.

              “Ma’am is it? Half a week ago and we-” Angua interrupted before she could go any further.

              “What happened in the past isn’t relevant right now. This is an official inquiry.”

 

              Susan stared down the extremely rude guard. Whatever little fondness she’d had for the woman was being buried. Oh from what she could tell, Angua had been having a very rough week, but then so was she. _We’ve all got many rough weeks ahead_ she thought. She kept her displeasure from her face.

              “Am I not allowed to take interest in a subject? It will soon become common knowledge, unless I miss my mark.” She had no intention of sharing her plans, namely taking a short stroll through the Hells for more information. That sort of information did not tend to go over well with most people.

              “I’m simply asking. You were there when the meteor first fell. Invisibly, I might add. And you did claim to be related to _Death_.” The blonde stressed the word, as if it had some hidden meaning here.

              “That doesn’t bloody well mean I’m a necromancer!” she almost shouted, before noticing that she was in a busy street.

              “If you must know, it is _because_ of my grandfather I am investigating. Something seemed wrong, and I was in a position to possibly do some good.” Angua looked at her suspiciously, but Susan just stared back. The woman had been rude from the moment they met, and she had no intention of blinking first. After a moment, she nodded and looked away. Then her head snapped back up, staring at something above her. _No,_ she thought, after a moment’s observation, _she’s smelling the books._

              “Where did you get those books?” she asked forcefully.

              “I…from Unseen University. Why?” She was unsure where Angua was going with this, and that was making her nervous.

              “Because those books all have the exact same scent that was on the meteor.”

              “Uh… ash and stone?”

              “No. It’s… odd. Almost a lack of scent. Completely neutral. That could only happen deliberately.” Susan took the information in, trying to figure out what it meant. Eventually, she gave up.   

              “Perhaps we should go back to the library then. Investigate?” The guard paused for a moment as if to reject the offer, then seemed to realize she had no better choice. Without Susan there, finding a specific shelf in that maze would be nigh impossible. She nodded briskly, and they started walking in silence.

              The silence remained for almost ten minutes before Angua spoke.

              “I should apologize. I wasn’t being fair earlier, or…last time either. Sorry.” It was quiet, and the blonde wasn’t looking at her, but she had said it. Susan just nodded, and that was that.

             

They continued until they reached the University Gates. As they passed the porter, Angua noticed that Susan had a puzzled look on her face.

“What is it?” she asked. The woman started, as if she had been deep in thought, and Angua noticed that in the short walk her hair had managed to escape its bun and was now starting to stand on end, like a surprised cat’s.

“It’s nothing. Just . . . usually when something like this happens, I’m alone or with people who have no idea what’s going on. It’s . . . nice, to have someone who has some experience with me.” She seemed vaguely amused at the idea. Angua was puzzled

“But you hang around Biers, don’t you? You must know some others. They might not be willing to get involved in human affairs like I do, but for something like this…” She trailed off as she noticed Susan’s amused expression was quickly wiped from her face, and Angua was surprised at the genuine sadness there.

              “I think I scare most of them, to be honest.” Angua looked at her, confused. The patrons of Biers were not, on the whole, creatures that were in the habit of getting frightened.

              “Even amongst them, I’m…different. Even among the abnormal, I stand out.” The words were spoken bitterly, and after a moment her face went studiously blank, as if embarrassed by the self-pity.

              “Anyways, there’s always a part of me they never quite understand.” She said it casually, walking through the front doors of the library, but Angua had frozen. She stared without moving at the woman, her words a near perfect echo of her own to Carrot a week ago. Susan noticed eventually, stopped, and turned around. She looked concerned.

              “Are you alright?” she asked. Angua looked at her as if for the first time.

 

              Sam Vimes’ day had not gone well. That he had an as-of-yet undiscovered geyser growing somewhere in his city, and six-week deadline for war was one thing. But now he was trapped in a room with Lord Rust. That was worse. The Patrician’s office had turned into a shouting match between Lord Rust, Reg Shoe, and, strangely, a 17-year-old girl. Vimes had been informed she was a prominent tooth fairy within the city. He had not been aware until now that Ankh-Morpork houses were regularly visited, illegally he might add, by fairies. Vetinari stared at him silently across the desk, clearly waiting for the shouting to end so that he could be heard.

              “…they’re a public menace! My gods we’ve been allowing these…these…girls”, and the derision with which he’d said that word almost made Vimes deck him then and there, “to just break into citizens’ houses without even a thieves’ guild’s license. Who knows what they get up to! This army is just the tip of the iceberg, mark my words. We should round up the lot of them, undead and-” he was suddenly cut off as Vetinari casually, but audibly, cleared his throat as he turned to look at the red faced man. Mad as he was, not even Rust would continue speaking after that icy stare.

              “I do not believe that will be necessary at the current time. As of now, we have no evidence that any army is, in point of fact, actually being mustered.”

              “And you intend to wait until one is at out gates?” the old general shouted.

              “I intend to wait until we are not jumping at shadows like frightened children,” the Patrician said in a voice so biting even Rust flinched.

              “As for the tooth fairies, it has up until now not been a problem. I see no need to interfere with their work. As I understand it, they provide an important service to the city.” Vimes wasn’t quite sure he agreed with Vetinari’s dismissal, but he certainly wasn’t going to agree with Rust. Reg, who looked as if he had been near bursting, finally spoke.

              “As we speak, my comrades are being harassed across the city. We are Ankh-Morpork citizens, and our fundamental rights are being trodden on. Trodden on!” He repeated this last bit for emphasis, huffing slightly. Vetinari just raised an eye brow, then continued.

              “While I’m sure Mr. Slant would have an interesting time arguing one way or the other, the point remains that the undead are an important part of this city. Over a fifth of night shift jobs are worked by them, and we have the largest population of vampires outside Uberwald. We cannot, gentlemen, afford to create an incident out of this.” He turned to stare down Lord Rust. “While we are waiting for further information on the subject, I will have absolutely no action taken against any supernatural members of this city. Lord Rust, I am putting you in direct command of a task force to see to this.” His tone made it clear he would brook no arguments on the matter.

Rust himself seemed turn between outrage at the indignity, and pride at being putting in charge. In the end, he settled for a balance of self-righteous silence. Vetinari turned back to Vimes.

“Commander, I want as many watchman as you can spare patrolling the Shades. While I have total faith in Lord Rust”, here he paused just long enough that it was deliberate, “I will not risk a riot.” Vimes nodded, frowning at the logistics this would take. Over half his dwarves were, with the assistance of the Guild of Clever Artificers, searching along the entire bank of the River Ankh, keeping watch for any forming geysers. Adding double shifts to the Shades would stretch them to their limit. _As long as there isn’t another disaster waiting around the corner_ he thought gloomily. There always was. After formalities had been observed, he headed straight back to Pseudopolis Yard. He needed to speak to Littlebottom and Carrot. And Angua, if he could find her, although getting them both in the same room might prove difficult. _They’ll have to get over it_ he thought. It wasn’t that he was unsympathetic. He just had larger problems at hand than workplace drama.

 

In the middle of the city, far from the banks of the river and the watching guards, a stone shuddered. Deep underground, in the sewers of the city, the massive stone had sat in the murky waters, pushed slowly yet surely along the path physics dictated it would. With no influence whatsoever besides that of gravity and flow, it was moved into a position that would, within the hour, cause a buildup of sewage and trash that would block the flow of the sewer. From there it was simple fluid dynamics. The gray shape observed until it was sure, then faded.


	11. Chapter 10

              Susan was vaguely concerned. Everything had been, well if not normal, then at least calm. And then Angua had frozen, staring at her for a solid 10 seconds. She had tried to pretend nothing had happened, and Susan humored her, but something was obviously bothering the guard.

              Once Angua had started moving again, Susan led her through the twisted maze of shelves that made up the publicly available portion of the library. It took her a quarter of an hour to find a familiar landmark*, and another ten minutes to find her way back to the shelf. On the way there, Susan noticed the same group of tired looking students she had passed several hours before. They didn’t appear to have moved at all, still clustered around the same large tome; however, several more empty cups of coffee had appeared around them. They didn’t even look up as she passed by them.

              * An entire shelf filled from floor to ceiling with the recorded debates of the Omnian Church. The sheer mass of the pamphlets tended to draw the eye.

              Susan walked directly up to section of the shelf where the books had been located. The spaces were now filled with different books.

              “That’s... odd.”

              “What is?” Angua asked, walking over to peer at the seemingly normal shelves.

              “I could have sworn they were here.” She paused, pulling out one of the books she had checked out. She checked the number printed on the spine, then compared it to the ones on the shelf.

              “See! There’s a gap!” she handed the book to Angua, who examined it quickly.

              “That could just mean they were checked out. But no, then there would be a gap on the shelving too. You said you were here a few hours ago?”

              “Yes, and I’m sure there were at least three other books in these spaces.”

              “That does seem odd. Let’s check and make sure someone didn’t just check them out.” They found their way to the desk of a librarian. After a few moments of conversation, he pulled out the record books and thumbed through them.

              “I don’t see anything about any of those books being checked out. You’re sure you were in the right place? You double checked the nearby shelves?” He asked this question with the tired certainty of a librarian experienced with people not finding books that were directly in front of them. When Susan nodded, he sighed, and opened up another book.

              “What did you say the titles were? Perhaps someone just took them off the shelf and then put them down. They could be in the back.”

              “Doubtful. There were no gaps on the shelves.” The librarian, experienced with people who could rearrange entire shelves seemingly by accident while trying to place back a single book, ignored her. After flipping back and forth through the same three pages, he frowned.

              “And you’re certain you saw these books here. Not another library?” Susan just stared at him and he shrugged,

              “Miss, I don’t have any record of any books with those titles in the system. While it’s possible they were effected by Wandering Tome Syndrome*, it’s highly doubtful. Either you have the titles wrong, or you’re in the wrong library.” Susan huffed angrily.

*a supposed inconvenient phenomenon that debatably appears in roughly half of all magical libraries. While most modern librarians agree that reports are entirely fabricated, a small number of “traditionally minded” librarians still believe in it.

              “I am certainly not mistaken. Maybe somebody doctored your books.” The librarian snorted at this.

              “I find that extremely unlikely. People who try to alter the books in this library tend to meet with accidents. Or worse, the Librarian.” While Susan argued with the man, Angua was staring off into nothing. After a moment, she reached into Susan’s bag, and grabbed one of the books she had with her.

              “Check if these books are in your system.” The man stared at her for a moment, then shrugged and took the books and checked the first one’s spine.

              “Well, it’s got our stamp on the spine, so it’ll-” he cut off as he stared at a page. He flipped to the next page, then the one before it. He paused for a long moment, then methodically went down each page, his tongue just poking out with concentration. After a few minutes, he shook his head and looked up.

              “My apologies. It seems you were right. This book isn’t in the system.” He proceeded to check the rest of the books, but they were all in the system. He stared at the offending book with confusion.

              “I couldn’t for the life of me explain that. Those stamps are custom made, and impossible to replicate without magic. I think… I think perhaps I had better get the Librarian.” The man set the books down and then hurried off to a door behind him. Angua and   
Susan waited a few moments before the just-off gait of an orangutan hurrying towards them could be heard.

              “Ook?” asked the Librarian as he examined the mysterious tome. The other librarian nodded, and the ape delicately thumbed through it. After several seconds, he paused, then flipped to the title page. He stared unblinking at it for almost five minutes before moving again.

              “Ook!” he said definitively, and then almost ran back through the doors. The two women stared at the nervous looking librarian.

              “He, uh… he said that that book doesn’t exist.” Susan looked at him, then back down at the book lying on the counter, then back at him.

              “I’m fairly certain it does.”

              “No, I uh… I mean that it’s never been published. He’s fairly certain that author doesn’t exist either. Either an unknown author wrote this book, then snuck it into the library and somehow stamped it without us knowing, or something else is going on.” The librarian came back through the doors at a fast pace, holding something in his hand. It looked almost like a telescope, except it was only half a foot in length. The Librarian peered through it at the book for some time, flipping through pages slowly.

Eventually, he looked up solemnly, and said “Ook.” Then he took the book back through the doors. The librarian looked shocked.     

“What’s happened?” Angua asked. She may not speak Orangutan, but she understood the tone. The man stammered.

“I…uh…I can’t say exactly. Let’s just say that that book shouldn’t have been here. Whoever got it was breaking some very serious rules.”

“Magic?” she asked.

“Uh…not exactly. It’s…it’s confidential. But someone planted that book there. That’s all you need to know.” Susan glared at him. She now had more questions than she had before. She turned to Angua.

“Can’t you, I don’t know, make him answer? This is an official inquiry by the watch isn’t it?” Angua shook her head as the librarian huffed in indignation.

“The University has special exceptions. In all honesty, I shouldn’t even be here in uniform without informing Ridcully.” She left unsaid the fact that if Ridcully complained, he’d have to take it up with Vimes. While Mustrum Ridcully may have been one of the few people in the city Vimes couldn’t browbeat, he generally let such issues slide as long as they didn’t cause a disturbance.

Susan was considering a variety of actions, including but not limited to trying the voice, although she knew this was a bad idea against Wizards, when Angua put a hand on her shoulder.

“Let’s go back to the shelves. I want to try something.” As they arrived back by the shelf, Angua glanced around and confirmed that there was nobody nearby.

“Turn around,” she said. Susan raised an eyebrow, but turned around. There was the sound of armor and clothing being removed, and then she felt something press against her leg. She turned around to see a large, sandy-haired wolf sniffing around the shelves. Angua padded up and down the aisle of books, pausing every so often to stick her nose between the shelves. Susan watched her for a while, then shrugged and sat with her back against the shelves. It had been a _very_ long week, and it didn’t seem to be ending anytime soon.

Eventually Angua rounded a corner, then returned a few minutes after, buttoning the top button of her uniform.

“There’s been no one else in this or nearby aisles all day. So either whoever planted that book knew you would be coming here and did it days ago, or they used some sort of magic.” Her voice twisted somewhat on the last word.

“You have a problem with magic?” Susan asked, curious.

“A problem? No. I just hate when it gets involved in an investigation. There’s nothing I can do against it. If a normal person tries to hide their scent, it’s my nose against their skills. If magic gets involved, suddenly I can’t do anything.” Susan nodded. It made some sense. Then she smiled.

“Well, this time you’re not alone.” Ignoring the faint twinge of wrongness that came whenever she used her powers, she stepped outside time, bringing Angua with her. She’d never tried to do this before, but it wasn’t that difficult.

 

Angua looked around, trying not to look like a child staring through the window of a store. While this might not actually been magic, it was as close as she’d ever gotten to experiencing it.

“What exactly did you do?” she asked, walking around several shelved to peer at the frozen students at the table.

“I stopped time.” Susan said it nervously, clearly uncomfortable about something. Angua watched her for a moment, then realization came. Angua had been exactly like this when she had first arrived in Ankh-Morpork. Nervous every time she had to talk about being a werewolf. Attempting to deflect attention, avoid using her nose around others. Thankfully, she had found the Watch, where everyone was, at the very least, very good at pretending nothing was unusual. She was very rapidly coming to understand the girl staring at her. And the more she understood, the more she stated to fell, well, _things_.  

Carefully, feigning nonchalance, she said “Well that’s certainly useful, although I don’t see how it helps here.” Susan paused again, then spoke.

              “I didn’t exactly stop time. It’s complicated. It’s more that I took us…outside of time.” Angua nodded again, trying not to show that she was completely boggled here. She did her best to act as if this was completely normal, to try to soothe Susan. Susan appeared to calm slightly.

              “Now that we’re no longer inside it, we should be able to, well, move across it. Sort of. It’ll just be easier to show you.” And then they were moving. That was the only way Angua could describe the way it felt. The shelves stayed still around them, but she still felt a sense of motion. Then she saw what was clearly a second Susan walking backwards down the aisle. Angua looked over at one Susan, then back at the other, then back again. _Calm. Stay calm. It’s no different than…_ she trailed off in her own thoughts. This was, in fact, very different from everything. Still, she refused to make Susan more uncomfortable than she already was. So she just watched as the white haired woman walked backwards up to the shelf, set books on it, then searched the shelves.

              “Those are the books you brought with you,” she said to Susan, who just nodded. _Okay, so clearly things are going backwards. That means…_

              “If we wait here long enough, we should see whoever planted the book.” Susan nodded again.

              “That’s…that’s…” Susan was looking at her, clearly nervous. Angua ignored her.

              “That’s incredible. This must be beyond useful. Do you know how many crimes we could solve with this-” she trailed off as she noticed Susan staring at her. But she was smiling.

              “I’m glad you like it.” She said, almost mockingly. Her smile faded, and she turned to look intently just behind Angua. Angua turned to look, and saw a strange, grey shape floating in the air above the shelf. Susan was frowning, clearly recognizing the figure.

              “You know what that is?” Angua asked.

              “It’s an Auditor.” Angua paused a moment, because this clearly was not one of Vetinari’s clerks.

              “You’ll have to expand on that.” Susan looked over, and then realized her mistake.

              “It’s a bit complicated, but this is bad. If they’re getting involved with this, then everyone’s in danger.”

              “The entire city?” Angua asked in shock. If Susan was right, then this was big.

              “The entire world, probably.” Angua froze. That was, well, worse. The world blurred around them briefly, and then the sound of nearby people resumed.

              “This just raises so many more questions. I think… I think I’ll go have a talk with my grandfather. He’ll have answers.”

              “I’ll come with you.” Angua spoke immediately. Susan shook her head.

              “You don’t need to get involved with all this. It’ll be messy, whatever this is, and you shouldn’t have to deal with it. I can handle it.”

              “I want to help. You said yourself it was nice to have someone else along who knew what they were doing. Besides, I was the one who caught that something was off with the books anyways.” Susan looked as if she was going to argue, so Angua interjected. “Besides, I am with the Watch. If it makes you feel better, consider this an official inquiry by the watch.” She smiled at Susan, and after a moment, she smiled back.

              “Alright then. You can come along. I suppose-” whatever she was going to say was cut off as a loud crashing sound came from far off. A few moments later there was shouting and screaming. Angua took off running without another thought. She was surprised to find, as she barreled down the path and out the University gates, that Susan was keeping up. In the distance, she saw water flowing down the street. _The geyser_ , she thought. This was going to be bad.

 


	12. Chapter 11

              As Angua ran down the street, the first thing to hit her was how impossible a geyser forming in the middle of the city was. As Vimes had said, there wasn’t exactly a surplus of flowing water. The second thing to hit her was the smell.

              Several months back, Cheri had been using what she called “a malodorous compound” in one of her tests. She had spilled a single drop, and the entire street had smelled for a week.

              This was worse. Much worse. This was the smell of 100,000 people living in a city in the middle of the summer concentrated into a single, flowing wave of foulness. She heard people down the road running from the slow moving wave of sludge, gagging as they ran, but her entire focus was on not vomiting. Well that, and watching where she stepped.

              As she got closer, she heard the rumbling of falling stones. She turned the corner and saw the source of both the noise and the foul water. In the middle of the road, several cobblestones had been blasted apart where the water burst forth. Well, mostly water. She saw several watchmen helping evacuate the nearby buildings as the water began seeping into them. But there seemed to be … less watchmen about than there should be. The geyser wasn’t immediately dangerous, the liquid more gurgling out than spewing, but already a building was in the process of collapsing. Angua took a deep breath, through her mouth of course, and then waded in to help.

              Susan arrived a few moments later, and saw as Angua waded into the knee deep sludge. She examined the source of the water, curious as to where it was coming from. As the people wading through it appeared to still have skin on their legs, it couldn’t be from the Ankh. But where else… oh gods. It was sewer water. This was raw sewage spilling across the city. She looked around for some watchmen or artificers to help her do something, but the few present appeared to be busy evacuating. _Someone has to do something and that someone is me_ , she thought wearily, as she sunk into the ground.

              Once in the sewers, the smell got worse. Much worse. Susan did not have what anyone could call a delicate disposition, but even she had to fight back the urge to vomit. After a few moments to gather herself, she examined the cause of this problem. At first glance, it appeared to be a large rock. Given its size, this would make removing it extremely difficult. But as she looked closer, she realized it was in fact not a rock. It was a large mass of paper, fat, and gods know what else*. She stared for a moment, thinking quickly. Every second this went on, more buildings were in risk of collapsing. And the further the sewage would spread across the city. Then she floated back up through the roof of the sewer.

*In point of fact, most gods make a point of not being acquainted with the intricacies of sewage. They consider it far, far beneath their dignity. Only Cloacina, the Ephebian goddess of sewers, would be able to identify all the components of the mass.

 

              When she rose back into the sunlight, the sewage had gone waist deep. One building was already collapsed, blocking part of the road, but also providing a place for her to stand out of the water. As she climbed up onto a large chunk of building, she saw Angua struggling to move through the thick sludge, her armor slowing her down. Further down the street several golems were working to slow the spread, laying down bag after bag of sand. A few people were making a bucket chain to help clean off the people who made it out of the water. A couple more guards had arrived, but there were still far fewer than there should be. Sighing, she put two fingers in her mouth and whistled loudly. No one nearby even glanced her way, having more important things occupying their minds at the moment.

              Angua growled quietly at her slow progress. Several people were still trapped in the rubble, putting them at risk of drowning, or more likely, being crushed by the sludge. Her throat still rumbling, she paused to tear off her breastplate and chainmail, tossing them aside. She’d been needing a new breastplate anyways. Without the weight slowing her down, she moved faster. Finally, arriving at the rubble, she heard a whistle from nearby. She watched as Susan lowered her hand, looking upward towards the sky. She shook her head, going back to the rubble. Some of it was light enough to move on her own, but most of the large pieces were too heavy. She sighed, and ignored the prickly sensation as she felt her hair begin to stand on end.

Strength bled into her arms as she grunted, lifting piece after piece of heavy rubble, pulling out those trapped inside. Her nose was useless here, any possible scent of people being utterly overwhelmed by the scent of the water around her, but she could still hear the people further in. Down the street, she saw a group of watchmen finally arriving. She kept digging.

Susan watched as a small black speck in the sky grew into the shape of Quoth as he got closer.

“I know you’re not the best in ornithology, but I think it’s important that you know that birds can still smell,” he complained, landing on her shoulder.

“So can I. Look I need you to do something for me.”

“Of course, of course. That’s the only reason I’m here, ain’t it?” grumbling, he took in their surroundings. “If you want me to do search and rescue, I’m out. I would never get the smell out of my feathers. No self-respecting bird would go in there, not even a buzzard.” He said this last word with disdain, as if vultures were bottom feeders. Which, obviously, they were.

“No, nothing like that. I need you to get my sword.”

“Your sword?”

“Yes, my sword. I need it for something.”

“What are you going to do? Stab the sewage to death?”

“Something like that.” He sighed and took off. Having nothing better to do, Susan watched Angua clear the rubble. At some point, she’d taken off her armor, leaving her in a dark tank top. She shifted far more stone than anyone her size should be able to. Actually, even a much larger person shouldn’t be able to lift what appeared to be a 1,000-pound stone and toss it behind them. She broke out of her reverie, as Quoth once again descended from the sky, a hilt held in his beak. He appeared to be cursing as he flew.

“Do you know how heavy this thing is? I weigh less than 5 pounds. This sword weighs more than I do!” He landed on the stone with a loud thump, and Susan politely pretended not to notice his near crash landing.

“Thank you. After this is over, I promise I’ll take you to that Igor who works with the butcher. I’m sure he has some spare eyeballs for you.” Quoth pretended to grumbled at this, preening his feathers. Susan picked up the sword, the blade glinting in the sunlight. Given the foul smells around it, it was a miracle it wasn’t already rusting.

Consigning herself to the smell once more, Susan sank through the street back into the tunnel. The buildup didn’t appear to have gotten worse, but neither had it gotten any better. Stepping through the muck as if it wasn’t there, she examined the mass, and then started to swing.

Angua was just pulling the last person out of the rubble when she heard a rumbling sound. _Not more_ she thought wearily. This would be bad. Then she noticed that the source of the water, now buried under too much filth and liquid to be seen, had stopped bubbling. Given the viscosity of the water, the effect wasn’t immediate, but it was clear. The water level began to slowly sink, as it drained back to wherever it had come from. Unfortunately, it left its contents behind. Sewage and waste filled the street for several blocks in either direction. Still, at least no more buildings would be collapsing.

She went to examine the source, to see what had happened, when Susan rose out of the muck, completely undirtied. She was holding a sword.

“You stopped this?” Angua asked, surprised.

“Yes. There was something down there blocking off the sewer. It all built up till it burst.” Susan looked around, taking in the sinking water and the golems cleaning up the waste. There was a large man down there, shouting at them.

“And you got rid of it with a sword? It must have been massive to build up this fast.” She looked at the small sword.

“It’s a very sharp sword.” They looked around for people to help, but already things were settling back to normal. Dr. Lawn had set up a small group down the street by the golems, and as they walked closer, Angua recognized the yelling man as Harry King. He was in fervent debate with several of the guards, who appeared to be at a loss. Angua walked up.

              “Mr. King. Can I help you with something?” Harry King turned to look at her, then turned back dismissively, not recognizing her out of uniform. Then he paused, froze, as if realizing who he had just snubbed, so briefly she doubted anyone else had noticed, then turned back to her, mild apology on his face.

“Sergeant Angua, isn’t it?” When she nodded, he continued. “I was just explaining to our friends here that there’s no need to organize any clean up. I’ll have my boys down here in less than hour for free. They seem to be having some trouble on that last point.” Angua nodded. Morporkians had pragmatic view of free goods and services, i.e. that they usually weren’t free. Angua looked around again. Cleaning this up would be days of work for whoever Vetinari coerced into it. Harry King would have it all in buckets and sold to the tanneries by the end of the day. She turned to the other guards.

“Everything appears to be in order here.” They saluted briefly, and then took off back to wherever they’d been patrolling before disaster struck. She confirmed that everything was, in fact, in order, before running over to the cleaning station. She was going to need _so_ many baths. She growled slightly under her breath.

Susan stood nearby as Angua got clean. Or at the very least, slightly less dirty. She had a feeling no one involved here today would feel truly clean until they had scrubbed themselves with boiling water. Twice. Eventually, she heard Angua walking towards her, and turned from examining the clean-up efforts already under way.

She stared. Angua’s arms were bare to the shoulder, and her muscular arms on display, glistening somewhat in the sunlight. She knew she should stop, but found herself unable to. Angua saw her face, and paused. Susan blushed, and looked away, and therefore missed the small, almost confused smile that appeared on Angua’s face.

“Alright, I’ll have to give a report on this, go talk to Vimes. But after that, we can head to meet … your grandfather.” She appeared to be politely ignoring the fact that Susan had just been ogling her, which Susan greatly appreciated.

“Are you sure? If you’re busy, I should probably just go alone.”

“No, no. I want to come. Whatever this is. We’re both involved now. Promise you’ll wait?” She put her arm on Susan’s, looking her directly in the eyes, and Susan found herself blushing again. I mean come, now this was so unlike her. Angua hadn’t even said anything!

Once again pretending to ignore the blush, she nodded.

“Thanks,” Angua said, and took off running towards Pseudopolis Yard.


	13. Chapter 12

Angua was beginning to feel the first prickling of fear. It wasn’t a common feeling for her. Oh certainly she didn’t enjoy silver. And she would do her best to avoid an actual conversation with Carrot as best she could. But she didn’t actually _fear_ either of them. Even hardened criminals caused little more than concern. But the lack of response from Vetinari as Lord Rust yelled was causing chills down her spine.

“… this proves it and you know it. For the safety of the citizens of Ankh-Morpork, you must lock-”

            “ _Must_?” Vetinari interjected, finally.

            “Well, I meant-”

            “I am well aware what you meant. But the last time I checked, our undead residents _are_ citizens. I will not lock up citizens without due cause. I am not a tyrant, after all.” Vimes coughed quietly. Vetinari pretended not to notice.

            “ _Real_ citizens, Havelock. Your own bloody watch translated the damn tablet. This is two predictions it got correct. Are you going to wait until we have zombies shambling down the streets before you take precautions?”

            “We have zombies shambling down our streets now, Lord Rust. They pull carts and deliver clacks messages, just as the rest of our citizens do.”

            “Vetinari, if you don’t take action, others will! We will not stand for this blatant shortfall in responsibility.” Vetinari went to speak, but Vimes reluctantly interrupted him.

            “He’s not exactly wrong on that account, sir.” He said this with the same pained expression many criminals had when they confessed to a crime. “There have greatly increased reports of violent assaults on undead. It won’t be long before the pitchforks and torches come out.” Angua suppressed a shiver.

            Rust, taking this reluctant support as vindication, turned back to Vetinari.

            “You see! Something has to be done.” And then Vetinari went silent again. Angua bit the side of her cheek as she felt animal instinct fighting to take over, as the adrenaline started pumping through her body. After several moments, Vetinari spoke.

            “Very well. We’ll enforce a curfew. No undead on the streets after sunrise. For their own protection. Regardless of my feelings on the matter, it is clear that the streets will not be safe for them during the day time.” He turned to Commander Vimes.

            “I want this to be strictly enforced, Commander. The last thing we need now is a feud breaking out. If they can pass as human, or dwarf I suppose, then leave them alone. But any visible undead should be gently escorted off the streets. I want any fights broken up immediately. Do I make myself clear?” Angua held her breath. She knew Vimes didn’t like the undead, but surely he wouldn’t-

            “Crystal, sir.” He saluted, and then gestured for Angua to follow him out. She did so, mouth clenched tight. As they exited, he gave a sigh.

            “Well, this ones going be a bugger to enforce. Sergeant, I want you to organize a group. And send Colon over to Goodmountain to get some notes printed out. The more people who know about this, the less trouble there’ll be. If we’re lucky, no one else will get attacked.”

            “I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.” He turned to look at her, surprised.

            “Why the hell not?”

            “Well, sir, I’m not allowed on the streets during daytime.” Vimes stopped for a moment, gaping at her.

            “That obviously doesn’t apply to you, Sergeant. You’re with the watch.”

            “Unfortunately, _sir_ , I’m still a werewolf, even in uniform. Besides, you heard what they said in there. I might be in danger.”

            “You? In danger? From who?!?”

            “Oh you know, the usual mob sort. Torches and pitchforks.” She was careful not to snap, not to glare. It wasn’t his fault, not really.

            “It’d have to be a bloody big mob to give you any trouble,” he said without thinking. She interrupted before he could continue.

            “And how would it look, sir? Several guards, clearly defying the new the laws they’re enforcing?”

            “This is absurd. There’s no reason you can’t be on the streets. You heard the Patrician. As long as you can pass for human, you’re fine.”

            “And Constable Shoe? And the others on the night watch?” He slowed as he thought about it.

            “I’ve always said, when you’re in uniform, you don’t have any bloody race or sex. Guards are guards. And Reg is a good man. I’ve known him since…well, for a damn long time. But if he… would prefer to transfer to the night watch for next few weeks, no one would hold it against him.” Angua snorted at this. Reg was as likely to run from this as he was to die of starvation.

            “But no one knows you’re undead. I can’t be trying to find a replacement in the middle of all this.”

            “I’m sorry to say, sir, that I think I must fully comply with these new laws.” Vimes starred at her for a moment, then stopped.

            “Ah. That’s how it…Look. Sergeant. Angua. I understand this isn’t ideal, but-” that did it.

            “Not _ideal_?!? This is the first step on the road back to Uberwald. This isn’t right and you know it, sir.”

            “Well what else are we supposed to do? Rust may be a sack of rotten piss, but he’s not wrong about the city. If we don’t get them out of sight, there will be mobs. This city is a dry explosive. Any spark will set it off.”

            “Give us a choice sir. Don’t force us to go into hiding. You know what lays down that road. Most of us know how to keep out of sight without being locked in our homes. It’s not much, but at least don’t shove us into hiding.”

            “If everyone is hiding of their own free will, then what’s the damn difference?” She stared at him for a moment.

            “You know the difference, sir.” His face reddened somewhat. After a long silence, he spoke.

            “Damn me, I almost bought into it,” he whispered. He gave her a nod, then turned back towards the Patrician’s office.

            She left him to it. After this, she just wanted to go lie down. But she went back to Pseudopolis yard, and sent Fred to get warning posters printed up. Vimes was right about that at least. The more undead who heard what was happening, the less that were likely to get caught up in any mobs. By the time she was headed towards Biers to talk to Igor, she had mostly calmed down. She started going over the day in her head. She could barely believe how much had happened. Gods, she needed a drink.

 

            She was just finishing up at Biers when Susan found her, carrying a butcher’s bag.

            “Who’s that for?” she asked, and then the scent hit her. It took all her willpower to not burst out in the middle of the bar asking why Susan had a sack full of eyeballs. That probably wouldn’t go over well. Then again, this was Biers. She followed Susan outside as she answered.

“It’s for Quothe. The…uh, raven you met before. He helped earlier, so I owe him, and there’s this butcher on Kings Street that doesn’t-”

“Eyeballs?!” Susan looked sheepish.

“They’re his favorite. And they’re just sheep eyes. No different than mutton.” Angua nodded. She got over the shock fast. After all, it wasn’t like she hadn’t eaten sheep’s eyes before. Well, heads. Suddenly, a shape swooped out of the sky and landed on Susan’s shoulder.

“You got them! Oh a whole bagful. So much better than in pairs.” Susan laughed as the bird turned to regard Angua.

“Who’s this then?” he asked as he poked his head into the bag.

“This is Angua, she’s a… a friend.” The raven nodded as very interesting noises came from the bag.

“Oh stop it,” Susan swatted him, “people are staring.”

“Let them,” he said, without coming out of the bag. Susan sighed but didn’t say anything else. They found a bench and sat, ignoring the numerous stares as the raven ate his way through half a dozen sheep’s worth of eyes. When he’d finished, he preened his feathers, then took off.

“If you ever need a quick retrieval again, just whistle.” Susan just shook her head in amusement, then turned back to Angua.

“So, are you ready to visit my grandfather.” She spoke slowly, as if the whole thing was embarrassing. _She’s got it bad_ , Angua thought. If she had to bet, she’d guess Susan avoided the topic as much as possible. The train of thought was derailed by another thought. She was not ready to visit anyone, much less Death, capital D and all. The only thing she was ready for was a drink. But she didn’t want to go to Biers. Not tonight. It was bound to be packed, crowded with undead talking about the news. Then a thought struck her. Surprisingly, it was a pleasant one.

“Look, it has been a _very_ long day. Do you want to go grab drinks?” Susan looked startled by this, but smiled.

“I’d love to, but I haven’t eaten since this morning. The drinks will go right through me, if they affect me at all.” She hesitated for a moment, and then asked. “How about dinner?”

Angua hesitated too, although she didn’t know why. She hadn’t been out to dinner with anyone since Carrot. But this wasn’t like that, was it? Unbidden, her thoughts returned to the way Susan had been looking at her earlier. She had definitely been checking her out. Generally, when people stared at her on the street, she just stared back at them and they generally ran away. But Angua didn’t feel threatened by Susan’s gaze. For one, it had been focused on her arms, which was new. And second… well it hadn’t been unpleasant. It was different though.  Carrot never looked at her like that. Oh, he was certainly enthusiastic if she initiated things, and he certainly hadn’t been bad. But… still. This was different.

And Susan was deliberately not looking at her, a hopeful look on her face. It was like that then.

“Look, I don’t…it’s not that…”  Angua trailed off as Susan tried not to look crestfallen. She was surprised to find herself also feeling disappointed. She thought about how often Susan said something that echoed her own thoughts perfectly. About how Susan had leapt into action to help earlier, regardless of the fact that she had no stake in the matter. She thought again about that moment outside the library. She decided to stop ignoring the truth, which was that, contrary to previous experience, she did like Susan, and she very much did want to go have dinner with her. She sighed. When had everything gotten so complicated.

“Yes. Let’s go have dinner.” Susan looked up in surprise, and smiled.

 


	14. Chapter 13

            The two women parted ways briefly to change and wash. Again. Susan had had two baths since the sewers had exploded, and she still didn’t feel clean. Which was ridiculous, because she hadn’t even gotten any of the stuff on her, using her power to pass right through the muck. Still, the smell would haunt her. She took another bath.

            Then she spent a quarter hour trying to figure out what to wear. The vast majority of the time, she just wore one of her near identical governess dresses. They were proper enough to wear in most places, but plain enough she didn’t get second glances on the street. Most importantly, they were comfortable enough that she never minded wearing them all day. But, practical as they were, they weren’t something she could wear on a date. And this was definitely a date.

            She felt butterflies at the thought. She’d been on dates before of course. Both at the Quirm College for Young Ladies, and since moving to Ankh Morpork. But they had been brief things. A single date with a young woman here, a one-night stand with an attractive man there. She was always keenly aware that the particulars of her life made any relationship with the living impossible. But this was different. It was easier to be herself around Angua, and Angua seemed to understand her. She wasn’t as frightened or uncomfortable to acknowledge who she was. What she was. Still, it was only a first date. _Don’t get ahead of yourself_. Granted, they _had_ technically already slept together, but seeing as how neither of them could remember any of that night, she decided it didn’t count. Snapping out of her reverie, she shook her head as if to clear it and picked out an outfit.

            Halfway across the city, Angua was doing nearly the same thing. She’d suppressed the half of her that bristled, literally, at the thought, and given herself another hard scrub. She would be washing scum out from beneath her finger nails for a week. Her skin occasionally still felt grimy, although she knew that it was clean. Then she’d stared in mild, mute panic at her closet. It felt odd, going through the same routines as she had before. Except she wasn’t going to meet up with Carrot after a long day on the streets. She was going to meet up with Susan. A woman. It was strange to her. Both because she was still unused to not thinking of Carrot like that, and because this was _all_ new to her. She felt like it should be different in some way. After a brief examination, she shook her head and decided that that was dumb. She put on a blue dress she often wore out with Carrot, one she knew flattered her, and after some hesitation, applied some perfume. She looked at herself in the mirror, butterflies strong in her stomach. The dress brought out the blue of her eyes, and she looked confidant as always, her face showing none of the nervousness she felt. Turning away, she headed out the door.

            They met at the street corner they had agreed upon. The sun was just setting and the sky was a beautiful orange. Susan knew the smoke from the older and smaller factories, the ones that hadn’t caught up yet and wouldn’t use golem power or couldn’t afford it, caused the light to scatter so prettily. She led Angua to the restaurant in companionable silence. She saw Quothe following them from a distance and sighed. She considered reaching out and taking one of Angua’s hands when she noticed Angua looked distracted.

            “Everything alright?” she asked nervously. But Angua just smiled and nodded.

            “Gaspode is following us.” Susan looked around for a person before remembering that Gaspode was the name of the talking dog she had met earlier. Knowing that, she spotted him in an alleyway, and laughed, pointing out the raven to Angua. Angua noticed where she was pointing, looking puzzled for a moment before she too remembered, and laughed.

            “I suppose we both have out minders.” They continued forward, making idle small talk, avoiding topics of importance, but Angua froze when she saw their destination. _Le Foie Heureux,_ one of the best restaurants in town. Susan came here occasionally, as it reminded her of the food she ate back in Quirm, and it wasn’t like she was ever short on money. Still, she had forgotten most people would have trouble getting a table here at all, much less on this short of notice. Angua voiced the very same question.

            “ _Le Foie Heureux_? But how did you get a reservation? They’re-”

            “I…may sort of be a Duchess,” Susan said, lamely. Angua stared at her for a moment, and Susan feared the worst. Then the blonde burst out laughing. Susan looked at her, worried she was being mocked, but this was genuine laughter. Susan stood puzzled as Angua mimed wiping a tear from her eye. Susan just gave her a questioning look.

            “I…you…” she trailed off, laughing again before half-composing herself and giving an explanation. “Awhile back, a vampire tried to kill me for dating royalty.” Susan gave a small exclamation, for several reasons.

            “A vampire tried to- wait you dated royalty? Who? Which vampire?” She had several more questions to ask, but paused when they entered the restaurant. Susan stayed quiet until the waiter left, then burst out. “You dated a king?” She felt fairly safe making the assumption that it _was_ a king, given how Angua had acted so far. Angua shook her head.

            “Alright, I suppose I should give the full story. Only…” She trailed off, but when she saw Susan’s eager expression she smiled a small smile and continued. “You know the rumors about the lost heir to the throne in Ankh-Morpork?”

            “Of course. I always assumed they were just stories though. Things like that don’t actually happen. You don’t have lost heirs wondering into the city, with a crown shaped birthmark, raised by elk. It’s nonsense.” She paused, then continued, “Please tell me it’s nonsense.” Angua gave a small laugh, then shook her head.

            “You are aware that you’re Death’s granddaughter correct? You have all white hair except for a single black streak. You look like you could be right off a storybook cover.” Susan frowned, and self-consciously pulled a finger through her hair. _Stupid_ , Angua thought. Nervously, slower than anything she’d done before, she reached out and put her hand on Susan’s where it lay on the table. When Susan looked up, Angua gave her a small smile. “Or off a romance novel.” Susan blushed faintly at this, the pink skin on her cheek giving contrast to a trio of lines scarred down her face.

            “Oh, what happened there?” Angua asked. She considered reaching out to touch Susan’s face, felt the butterflies in her stomach roil, and contented herself with holding her hand. Susan’s own hand rose to her cheek, and her smile still slightly, although it didn’t leave her face entirely.

            “You first. I’ll tell you the story afterwards.” Angua paused, then picked up, glancing nervously around, but this restaurant knew its clients, and each table had a fair amount of privacy.

            “Obviously, don’t spread this information around.” Susan nodded, and Angua continued. “Captain Carrot, my…uh… my ex you saw the other day, is the lost heir.” Susan froze for a brief moment. Carefully, she asked

“The redhead?” Angua nodded. The silence became awkward, and Angua hurried to fill it.

“Anyways, there was a vampire a while back. Dragon King of Arms. Pretentious bastard. He kept track of all the bloodlines you see, so he knew who Carrot was. He, uh, objected to, as he put it, ‘royal puppies’.” Susan snorted indelicately at this, and Angua laughed. “And now here I am, and you’re one step from royalty. Seems I have a type.” Susan laughed again. She was doing that a lot more often lately. Laughing. It felt odd. It felt good.

“So the lost heir is just wandering the streets of Ankh-Morpork, working as a guardsman?”

“He _is_ captain now. But yes. He doesn’t even really talk about it much, but most of us know. I wouldn’t know for sure, except, well, you know.” When Susan gave her a puzzled look, Angua blushed slightly and said, “Well, I saw the birthmark.” She worried the awkward silence would return again, but Susan only laughed. “Okay, your turn.”

Susan prepared herself to start the story. She’d heard it from her father and mother a dozen times of course, but she’d never told it herself. But just then, the waiter arrived to take their orders. When he’d left, Angua looked at her expectantly.

“You’re aware how Death works?”

Angua gave a chuckle and answered, “Assuming you mean with a capital D, then I just have a vague idea. He goes around, collecting souls, that sort of thing.” Susan nodded.

“Close enough. Well a long while ago, while on the job, he came across a young orphaned girl. What you have to understand about my grandfather is he’s…odd.”

“I would imagine so. Not the sort of person you run into at the market.”

“You’d be surprised actually. He has a great fondness for curry. Actually, I wouldn’t be shocked if you _had_ passed him at the market. Anyways, he’s obsessed with humans. Constantly tried to understand them. He gets it into his head sometimes, to do ‘Human’ things. So he finds an orphan. Adopts her. She lives in his domain for ages. Never aging, never growing. That whole lot.” Angua nodded, keeping the faint shock at hearing something like that referred to so causally off her face.

“Then, years later, he decides he’s going to get an apprentice.” Angua laughed at this, unable to help herself, and Susan smiled nervously back at her. “It was exactly as crazy as you’d imagine. Showed up in a small farming town, went to the yearly apprenticing. Appeared at midnight actually. My dad always said he’d given up on it when Death appeared out of nowhere.”

“I can see where this is going.” Susan nodded.

“My father meets Death’s adopted daughter.”

“Love at first sight?” Angua asked, already expecting the answer. Susan snorted.

“They hated each other actually. My father ran into a Princess on the job. Her father was assassinated, and she was scheduled to die a couple days later. But he fell in love, stopped her from dying, and the timeline went haywire.” She said this casually, as if it were an everyday occurrence for her, and Angua struggled to keep the shock off her face. Susan must have noticed, because she stilled slightly, and continued in a more nervous tone.

It was a bit strange, Angua thought, still listening to Susan with half an ear. Susan was usually so confident, so sure in everything she did. Even when a _sewage geyser_ had exploded in the middle of the city, she hadn’t given a second thought to dashing out to help. Come to think of it, she didn’t seem to find anything unusual about giving herself the task of apparently saving the world. Angua remembered how Susan had looked just after draining the geyser. Fearless, hair poofed out around her, face shiny with exertion, the top button of her dress had come undone at some point. She flushed ever so slightly, and the butterflies in her stomach turned to heat. She crossed her legs.

Feeling guilty, she snapped out of her thoughts. Susan continued, “So my grandfather finds out about everything, and he and my father have a big duel.”

“He what?” Angua exclaimed. She had started adjusting to the levels of strange this story inhabited. Talking ravens, magic bubbles, alright she could understand those. But fighting Death? That was…well, impressive to say the least.

“My grandfather went easy on him. I think. Anyways, during the fight he slaps my father. The bones on his hand scratched, and, well,” she gestured to the three pale lines on her face, near invisible now that she wasn’t blushing.

“After that, things settled down. He amicably fired my father, and he and my mother were made Duke and Duchess as thanks by Princess Keli.” She trailed off, a melancholy look crossing her face as she thought about her parents. Angua’s thumb brushed her hand comfortingly, and Susan looked up at her.

“So, the scar got passed down by magic?” Angua asked, wanting to distract Susan from what was clearly a hard subject for her. Like an idiot, again, she picked the wrong topic. Susan’s hand went to her cheek self-consciously.

“Yes. I don’t know the exact mechanism itself. I know it’s not normal but-”

            Angua cut her off, gently, leaning closer to Susan. “That’s alright you know. You don’t have to be normal.” Nervously, she continued, “I know it bothers you. I was exactly the same way. I understand what you’re going through, but you don’t have to worry. You’re beautiful, magical scar and all.” Angua couldn’t meet Susan’s eyes, blushing furiously. Which means she missed the movement as Susan paused, then leaned in and press her lips to Angua’s.

            Angua froze, and she felt Susan start to pull back in response; ignoring the burning in her cheeks and the butterflies in her stomach, Angua leaned forward into the kiss. Susan’s lips were soft and warm against hers, and she felt lightheaded by the time they parted a few seconds later. There were no fireworks, no sparks, but there was something there. Softer, more subtle. A slow warmth filled her entire body. She smiled at Susan, and Susan smiled back at her. She reached out to take Susan’s hand again, and it was a long time before she let go.


	15. Chapter 14

            Susan walked Angua slowly back to her home in Shades, both of them turning to take the long way there by unspoken consent. Mostly concealed by the darkness of the hour, they walked hand in hand down the streets, talking about small things, Quoth following them from above. Despite the time of night, and the fact that Angua was not in uniform, they arrived at Mrs. Cake’s undisturbed*. Both of them having work to do tomorrow, in addition to their visit to see her Grandfather, they had decided against getting drinks. Despite the stress of the past few days, neither of them had felt like they needed them anymore.

*On the way, they in fact passed two licensed thieves, one _unlicensed_ thief, and Foul Old Ron. Not even the last had been foolish enough to intrude on them. Even his smell had decided to take another way back to the bridge.

            As they reached the door Angua paused briefly, moving as to step aside on instinct, then froze. It was barely noticeable, and then she stepped forward to open it as if nothing had happened, looking back at Susan nervously. Susan smiled reassuringly, and let go of Angua’s hand. Before the silence could begin to get awkward, she pulled a pocket watch out and glanced at it briefly, then she spoke up.

            “It’s quite late, I should hurry back to put Twyla and Gawain to bed. Should we meet late tomorrow morning, after I’ve walked them to their classes?” Trying not to show her relief, Angua nodded.

            “That works. I’ll need to stop in at Pseudopolis Yard before I leave for any length of time. How long will it take to get there?”  Susan was puzzled for a moment before laughing.

            “Almost no time at all. Just a brief ride on horseback.” Angua nodded, unsure of what to say to that. Susan was looking back, a few seconds passing as they both waited for the other to say something. _Do something_ Angua yelled at herself, frozen. Susan had made the first move at the restaurant, and was clearly leaving Angua the choice of what happened next. As seconds passed, Susan nodded, only a faint trace of disappointment showing on her face, before the smile returned to it.

            “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” Giving a small wave, she turned to leave. Gathering her courage, Angua stepped forward and put a hand on Susan’s shoulder. Susan paused, then turned back around, looking puzzled again. Her face was pale in the moonlight, framed by hair that gleamed like burnished silver. The three lines reflected the faint light.

_I was right_ she thought. Heart pounding, she leaned in slowly, as Susan moved to meet her kiss. She felt the edges of her mouth pull up into a smile, and Susan’s mirrored her own. Angua pulled back, her entire body was flushed red, she was sure.

Before she could do anything to make the moment awkward again, Angua said, “Good night,” and hurried inside. She leaned against the wall as the door shut, stopping to catch her breath. She glanced around to make sure her dramatic display didn’t have an audience, but she was alone. Still smiling and face flushed, she pulled the keys out of her pocket as she headed towards her room, then paused as she passed a room. _Reg shouldn’t be working tonight_. Taking a minute to compose herself, she knocked quietly on Reg’s door. She heard his slow shuffling gait a few moments later, and the door swung open a crack.

“Password?” he asked, then stopped when he recognized her. The door opened all the way.

“Oh, it’s you. Come in.” As she walked inside, she heard him sliding the deadbolts into place and lowering the bar back across the door. When he was finished he gestured wordlessly for her to take a seat. Seated, they stared at each other. The usual fire in Reg’s eyes was a bonfire.

“How are things Reg?” He was silent for a moment before speaking.

“Bad. Vimes got into shouting match with Rust and-”

“I was there for that.”

“Were you there when Rust challenged him to a duel?” Angua paused, then burst out laughing.

“Rust did what!?” Reg smiled a bit, but it didn’t last.

“Apparently, Vimes ‘had insulted his honor for the last time’. Mister Vimes said he hadn’t got any honor to insult. Things spiraled from there.”

“Are they going to fight then?” Angua asked. She almost hoped they were. While it would certainly hurt them in the long run, her week would be immensely improved by seeing Commander Vimes beat the noble into the ground. Reg shook his head.

“Vetinari managed to reign them in. Told Vimes explicitly that the watch was to escort any recognizable undead off the streets after sunrise.” Angua frowned.

“And he accepted that?” She’d honestly thought she’d changed his mind. Reg gave a small grin.

“Apparently, he saluted on the spot, and went right to find Car- uh…” he trailed off, but Angua was much too worried about the situation to even register it.

“What did he go to Carrot for?” Reg looked at her for another moment, and seeing nothing to worry him*, continued.

“He went to Carrot and told him what Vetinari had said. Repeated it a few times too. It was a bit odd; wasn’t like it was hard to hear. Carrot got that look on his face and ran off to grab one of his books.” He paused to cough up a small moth. It fluttered awkwardly for a moment before darting towards one of the candles.

*You always knew if Angua was angry at you. The little part of your brain that used to scout for leopards in the brush woke up from its 10,000-year nap to run in the opposite direction.

            Angua knew Carrot well enough to figure out what happened next. “You escort them into the nearest building?” Reg looked surprised.

            “How’d you know?”

            “Lucky guess.”

            “Anyways, yes. Told us to escort them off the streets as quickly as possible. That means the first building open to the public. Then continue your patrol.” Angua nodded. It was, well, a very Carrot thing to do.

            “Has Vetinari found out about it yet? No, stupid question. Has Rust found out yet?” Reg shook his head again.

            “He went off to his family lands to ‘raise a militia’.” Reg turned to the side and spat. Only a small puff of dust came out, but he didn’t seem to notice. “We should raise a citizens’ militia. The people of Ankh-Morpork outnumber the nobles a hundred to one. If we all work together, we can just keep him from ever coming back. Let him stay on his land and starve.”

Angua waited patiently for Reg to finish, then asked, “How are things on the streets?” If Rust had left to raise a militia, it was a sure bet others had as well. If that news was public, and given how fast The Times worked these days it would be, things would get ugly fast. She’d talk to Carrot about organizing something. She wasn’t too worried about lone undead. Like she’d told Vimes, they were experienced at running from a mob. But if a mob stormed Biers, or gods forbid the Shades, things wouldn’t go well.

Reg sighed. “About as bad as you’d expect. We’re having a meeting in Biers tomorrow night, map out safe routes, organize escorts. The Black Ribboners are having their own meeting as well, so I might go talk with them as well, see if we can cooperate.”

“I’ll try to be there. What time is it?” She left after Reg gave her the details, her good mood from earlier gone.

Pseudopolis Yard was quiet the next morning when she went in. Not the quiet of an empty building or of many people very busy doing paperwork. It was the quiet of a great many scared people. Oh the experienced coppers were going about business as normal, gently moving the new recruits along. But still. The silence filled the air like a fog, thick enough to cut with a knife. Cheri shot her a look as she passed on her way to Vimes’s office, and Angua paused to talk to her friend.

“How’s it going?” she asked casually, knowing the answer wouldn’t be good.

“Bad. Dwarves aren’t fans of the undead at the best of times,” she paused and flushed a bit, remembering the silver chainmail she’d worn before she got to know Angua. “The Grags are trying to use the fear to pull dwarves back to Uberwald, but with everything they’re stirring up they’re more likely to cause a mob.” Angua nodded. It was no worse than she had expected. She was a bit surprised when Cheri reached out to grab her arm.

“You’re being safe, right? I know the usual torches and pitchforks won’t give you much trouble, but there’s talks of silver tipped crossbow bolts. It might be smart to stay off the streets, at least on four legs.” She looked extremely concerned, and Angua was touched.

“I’ll do my best. I’m actually going to talk to Vimes now. I’ll be leaving the city for a bit. Might just be for a day or two, not sure yet.”

“What for?”

“Investigating that tablet. We need to find out more if we want to cut off all of this at the head.” Cheri nodded. Angua promised she’d be careful, then headed to Vimes’s office. She found the Commander muttering to himself as he angrily filled out some paperwork. She quickly saw the source of his anger, and managed to hide the small breath of surprise. That was… a lot of paperwork. She saw a stack at least 2 feet high, that appeared to be nothing but citizen’s requests.

Curious, she grabbed one to read it, and was faintly amused to find the sheet a request for a guard to come by and arrest the ghosts in the wall that were keeping them up at night. She set it down, and turned to look at Commander Vimes, who finished the sheet he was working on, then looked up. He looked embarrassed for a moment, though Angua didn’t know why.

“Ah, Sergeant. I … wanted to apologize about yesterday. You were right. I-” she cut him off with a wave.

“You did the right thing, in the end. No harm done. I heard what you and Carrot did.” He nodded, looking rather pleased.

“I expect Vetinari will call me in to raise his eyebrows at me soon enough, but it seems to have gotten Rust off my back for now, and that’s good enough for me. What’s the word on the street?” She told him about the meeting planned for Biers, what Cheri had said about the dwarves. He nodded at that.

“Told me the same thing, as did a few others. We’ll have to set up some sort of protection there, although I dislike the idea of setting guards in uniform out front. Its inviting trouble, and not many people, undead excepted of course, actually know where it is. Maybe put some plain clothes nearby, make sure there are some dwarves amongst them. Make it easier to clear out a mob of dwarves if they come.” Angua nodded as Vimes thought out loud.

“. . . a dozen or so should be enough. I’ll need you there as well, if you can. Gods what I wouldn’t give to have a few more undead officers who could pass in daylight.” Angua snorted at this. Vimes had made it very clear he’d hire a vampire when Dibbler started giving food away for free, and there weren’t many others who could regularly pass. She interrupted Vimes, as he started figuring out the logistics, pulling out a roster to get names.

“I’m afraid I won’t be here tonight. I have a lead on the tablet I need to follow.” Vimes looked up, confused for the briefest of moments.

“Right. Damn and bother I’d nearly forgotten the thing in all this chaos.” He sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“We’ll need your help organizing before you leave. Where are you headed to? I know you don’t need an escort, but I could spare an officer or two if you need anyone in particular. Angua shook her head.

“Hard to explain sir, but I’ll be going with a… a friend.” It was a sign of how tired Vimes must be that he didn’t notice the hesitation, or at least didn’t pursue it.

“Good good, we need every hand we can get. How long until you’re back?”

“Not sure, to be honest. Depends on what we find.” He sighed again, nodding.

“Well good luck then, gods know we’ll all need it. I’ll need you to talk to Carrot before you leave, help him organize the guards at Biers.” He had slowed at Carrot’s name, but hadn’t stopped, clearly gauging her reaction. She snorted.

“I’m not a jilted school girl, Commander. I’ll talk to Carrot before I leave.” He nodded his assent, clearly relieved, then turned back to the massive stacks of paperwork.

Carrot wasn’t hard to find; he was standing in the hallway talking to a pair of constables. Angua waited until he was finished, taking a deep breath, then tapped him on the shoulder. She was nervous, of course. But not as much as she would have been a few days ago. Right now they both had bigger things on their plate.

“Ye- oh,” he said, clearly hiding his surprise. When he saw the expression on Angua’s face, he just nodded.

“It as bad as it looks then?” She nodded, and he eyebrows turned down like they always did when he was worried.

“Vimes sent me to discuss arranging some plain clothes watching Biers. There’s a meeting there tonight and we’re worried about a mob. You talked to Cheri?” He nodded again, so she continued. “I’m leaving for at least a day, but we’ll need some dwarves there among them. Reg will be inside, leading the meeting I expect, so you’ll have him there too.” As they discussed the specifics, Angua felt a bit… off. It was strange, knowing she was going to be leaving, and Carrot would be staying. Whenever she’d gone off before, she’d always had Carrot with her, or at least she knew he’d be following her. Still, she wasn’t going alone.

“Where are you leaving to? If…if you needed someone to come along, I wouldn’t want you to be travelling alone, I could-” she shook her head.

“I’m travelling with someone, although from what she said, I don’t think we’ll be on the road long.” Carrot hid his disappointment well, but he also looked relieved she wouldn’t be alone. She glanced at the clock, and was surprised by how much time had passed.

“Shit, I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to meet her soon. I’ll… we’ll talk when I get back, alright.” It’d only been a week, but already she missed him. Never enough that she ever forgot why she left, but still. He nodded, offering her a nervous smile as she grabbed her pack and ran out the door.

Susan was waiting there, sitting on a bench wearing her usual governess’s dress, holding a horse’s tether. She smiled up at Angua, and Angua forced a smile back.

“Does this one talk too?” she asked as she approached. Susan snorted.

“He doesn’t, although to be quite honest I’m not sure if that’s because he can’t or whether he’s just decided against it.” She stood, and offered a hand to help Angua up into the saddle. Angua could get up on her own, of course, quite easily so. Still, she let Susan help her, and flushed a bit. Susan pulled herself on after, holding the reins loosely, and flicked them softly. There was a pause, then the horse leapt up into the air, treading on nothing. Angua gasped in surprise, but calmed quickly when it was clear it was stable. She looked down at the busy streets of Ankh-Morpork, and noticed that no one had noticed them.

“Are we invisible. No, not invisible. The same thing you did at that bar. When we first…when we ran into each other after the meteor?” Susan nodded, turning back so she could see Angua’s face. With Angua holding onto Susan’s waist lightly, this put their faces quite close to each other. Angua flushed again, and Susan grinned.

“No one ever notices, even when Grandfather orders curry from the 2nd story window.”

Making sure to keep her voice level, she asked, “Death. Orders curry. From Ankh-Morpork?” Susan laughed, and Angua felt her lips turning up as well.

“I don’t even know how he eats it, but it is his favorite.” She recounted the tale of the first time she’d gotten curry with her grandfather, laughing all the while, as they rode off into the sky.”


End file.
